


A Boggart Defeated

by TheLightFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men Crying, Nightmares, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 06:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/pseuds/TheLightFury
Summary: I was asked to do a fic where Draco has a nightmare and wakes up and cries because of it, but tries to keep quiet because he doesn't want Harry to know, and this is what came out of it! Hope you enjoy!





	A Boggart Defeated

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Donnarafiki, pisces_moon, and Saphira_Black for helping out! <3

Icy claws of terror clutched at Draco as his eyes flew open. Huge gulps of warm, familiar air rushed down his throat as his heart pounded, memories of the nightmare swirling viciously around his mind. Pain, horror, harsh words, and gut wrenching loss worse than he’d ever experienced plagued him, every tiny, excruciating detail still flooding through him. It paralysed him, rooting him to the spot in horror, even as the tiniest, most pathetic wave of relief fluttered through him. 

_ ‘At least it was only a dream,’  _ his mind whispered. But it didn’t matter. The dream had still happened. The grief still thumped through him, heavy, devastating, and relentless. Every breath still caught in his throat, still begged him to question everything he knew to be true. He still felt like he was in the middle of the ocean at night. All alone. No light, no bearings, no means of finding land, with no wand. Completely, and utterly fucked. 

It had just been so…  _ Real. _ The sounds, the smells, the look on Harry’s face-  _ everything  _ was just so vivid, like it had just happened. The fateful scenes played again and again in his mind, like one of those stupid muggle records on repeat that he couldn’t ever figure out how to shut up. With each rotation, fresh sensations fought to consume him, choking him, drowning him in despair, and pricking tears in his eyes. It didn’t matter if it was just a dream. It didn’t even matter that it was over now and he was in bed with his boyfriend. It still fucking  _ hurt.  _

Yet as the tears began to stream down his face, Draco couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn’t gasp, or shudder, or shake. He couldn’t sob. He couldn’t do anything but keep quiet, just as he’d been taught, from a very young age. He’d let his boyfriend sleep beside him. He’d ignore the pain as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. No matter how much it hurt, or how much he just longed to be held sometimes. It was better that way. 

He knew that his way of dealing with emotions was rooted in stupid, pure-blood ideals of how one should conduct oneself. He further knew that refusing to accept or experience his emotions was probably significantly harmful, psychologically speaking. But it was one of the only things he had consciously chosen not to change after the end of the war. So many of his family values had been destroyed, so many ‘normal’ practices wiped out, deconstructed, and found to be unreasonable at best, and downright illegal at worst in the months after the war had ended, that even now, years on, Draco still found his head spinning at times, struggling to navigate a society that was so fundamentally different to the one he was raised in. 

But this was different. This wasn’t just a stupid rule he followed to please his father, though that was obviously the reason he’d stopped sobbing in the first place. This was still something he used more often than he cared to consider or admit. 

The end of the war didn’t end the war on  _ him.  _ People still hexed him in the street, cursed the ground he stood on, refused to serve him in shops. He still had to endure demeaning meetings with the ministry of magic, answer three times the number of questions for jobs he wanted to apply for, and fight ten times as hard to secure a future for himself. He still felt every glare at his back. He still locked himself in public restrooms healing cuts, bruises, and broken bones at least once a month. He was still reduced to tears more often than he could count, no matter how used to the general public’s abuse he became. 

He needed to be able to stifle his sobs. He  _ needed  _ to stay in control. Sometimes, before Harry at least, it was the only thing he’d had left to remind him of who he was. His only sense of normality. No matter what society would think of the tradition, for him, it was better to cry silently. Even if that meant ignoring what would surely be his boyfriend’s wishes. If Harry ever suspected that Draco was crying beside him as he slept, the honourable Gryffindor would practically demand to be woken up, horrified at the thought of Draco “suffering” alone. But he just couldn’t open himself up like that. Not yet. 

But as his boyfriend's soft snores continued and he choked down every sob, Draco found an old, familiar heartache mingling with the grief from the nightmare. Somewhere, a quiet, subtle, but painful disappointment was seeping around his body. With every heartbeat it begged for release; for the freedom to just cry. Visions of Harry’s loving face, memories of his strong arms holding Draco, and cravings to hear that the dream was wrong swirled in his mind. With every choked-back sob, his chest ached, adding fresh waves of hurt to the relentless heartache curling through him. It wasn’t that Draco  _ needed  _ the reassurance - he knew realistically that the nightmare was just exactly that; a nightmare. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to hear. Especially as the scenes tortured him, time and time again. 

But it just wasn’t possible. After all this time, he couldn’t bring himself to break his own rule, to relinquish that control for something so pathetic as a nightmare. Not when he faced much worse on an almost daily basis. Even if the dream was literally the thing he was most scared of. He just couldn’t do it. Clamping down on the treacherous desire, Draco resolved to handle it just like he always did. Everything would be fine in the morning anyway.

Slowly minutes passed, each just as excruciating as the last. With every tear that fell, a fresh wave of heartache coursed through him, different parts of the nightmare flooding his senses. It played, paused, rewound, zoomed in, and completely overwhelmed him. Sometimes, the scene would pause for longer than just a few seconds, fade slightly in his mind, and allow him a brief reprieve. But never for long. Just as Draco would manage to take a few deep, steadying breaths, or think clearly for just a second, a new angle of a scene would appear, setting the rollercoaster in motion again. Still, as it dragged him back to the pit of despair, wracking him with heartache anew, he held every breath. 

He’d just taken another, slow, calculated inhale, when a movement from behind him caught his attention. 

"Mm.." Harry grunted, rolling closer to him and curling his arm around Draco's waist. 

Immediately, the instinct to hide, run, and scrub any evidence of tears off his face crashed over him like a tidal wave. Questions flew through his mind as he tried to recall the past few minutes; was there a chance Harry had been awake when Draco woke up? Did he know? Was he awake now? Every muscle froze as he waited, praying his boyfriend was just adjusting in his asleep. 

Yet as the warmth from his boyfriend’s body seeped through him, a sudden, all consuming yearning interrupted the panic, catching Draco off guard. The same disappointment that had plagued him earlier stirred again, urging Draco to turn into his boyfriend’s touch. Somehow, pressed against his boyfriend, loneliness surged through Draco, years of control setting up invisible boundaries that separated and isolated him from the man behind him. Fresh tears forced their way into his eyes as vicious, violent spasms attacked his lungs, almost unbearable jolts of pain searing around his body as Harry cradled him tenderly. 

But as Harry’s steady breaths reached his ears once more, reassuring him his boyfriend was still asleep, instinct fought the attack, forcing his emotions into submission as he took difficult, but even breaths once more. Even as new disappointment crushed his chest, years of training demanded he focus only on the slow passage of air through his body, mind quickly drifting back into the painfully normal rhythm. He’d barely taken three breaths, however, when a small movement on his chest made him jump. 

“Draco? You’kay?” Harry’s voice was soft, and husky with sleep, but even so, a distinct note of concern clung to every syllable. It was so gentle, so tender, promising everything Draco had ever dreamed of. It physically hurt to hear. 

But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just answer, there was no way he’d convince Harry that he was fine right now, and he couldn’t even face the possibility of collapsing into an undignified mess in front of him, no matter what his stupid emotions wanted. As the silence stretched on, Draco held his breath, hoping his boyfriend would think that he’d jumped in his sleep. Unfortunately, the shifting of the mattress behind him told him Harry thought otherwise.

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Harry was propping himself up on his elbow, hand creeping up from his chest to cup his cheek. The warm, calloused fingers dampened as they caught fresh tears. Still Draco held his breath, stubbornly ignoring the burning in his lungs.

“Are you crying?” Unbidden, Draco’s lips began trembling under Harry’s hand, another tear leaking from his eyes as he finally drew a shaky breath, oxygen deprivation getting the better of him. It was all the confirmation Harry needed. 

“Oh, Draco…” Harry breathed, hands trying to gently coax Draco to turn towards him. 

For the briefest of seconds, the instinct to fight, to hide his tears, and deal with things alone prevailed; as Harry’s hands tried to pull him closer he lay, still as a statue, once again holding his breath. But as the need to feel his boyfriend’s arms around him, to cry, to be real for once was pounded in his chest, and Harry persisted like the stubborn git he was, a strangled squeak forced its way past Draco’s lips, and suddenly, all of Draco’s self-control crumbled. 

As more tears fell, a desperate gasp, loud, undignified, and painful, broke past his lips, echoing in the silent room, before suddenly the air fought to escape, clawing up his throat, jumping from his lips in chokes, splutters and pants. As soon as the stumbling exhale finished, another violent spasm caught him, forcing him to drag in stutter of air, desperate half-breaths, and tiny, rapid gasps. All the while Harry’s hands urged him closer.

“It’s okay, gorgeous, come here, I’ve got you…” his boyfriend murmured, love and tenderness rich in his voice. His hands were on Draco’s side, pulling him gently away from the edge of the bed, trying to turn him over to face his boyfriend. As another merciless sob stole his breath, Draco couldn’t resist collapsing towards him. 

Immediately warmth engulfed him as Harry wrapped his arms around him tightly, holding him to his chest as the sobs rampaged through him. Breaths caught in his throat, vibrating slightly, as if confused about what to do next, before rushing out, wracking his entire body with deep, forceful shakes. Still Harry squeezed him gently. He gasped desperately for air, each tortured exhale tripping and trickling out of his lungs in hiccups and sniffles. Still the Gryffindor pressed tender kisses wherever he could reach. Tears and more streamed from his eyes, his nose, his mouth, drenching Harry’s chest. But still, his boyfriend murmured soft, tender words, reassuring him that it was all going to be okay. Draco could only sob harder, hands clutching at his boyfriend for purchase. 

“You’re safe, Draco,” he whispered in his ear, “I’m here, gorgeous, just let it out…” 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was screaming that this was wrong, that he was pathetic and ridiculous, and unworthy of the Malfoy name. But Harry’s heartbeat was thrumming steadily in his ear, every beat whispering ‘love-you, love-you, love-you’, and for once, Draco couldn’t find it in him to care. He’d fought for so long, denied himself honesty, comfort, and weakness for such a long time. After everything he’d been through, he just to feel safe again. 

“It’s okay, gorgeous, take as long as you need, I’ll still be here…” Harry murmured as Draco clung to Harry even more, nestling his head under his chin. Still his tears streamed. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, curled in Harry’s arms, sobbing desperately, but by the time Draco stopped crying, the faint hues of morning were painting the sky. As his tears finally stopped flowing, and his grip on his boyfriend lessened slightly, Draco focused on the soft, steady rhythm of Harry’s breathing, too exhausted to care about the many wet, disgusting sniffles that escaped him. Still Harry held him, peppering him with kisses wherever he could reach. A shiver of warmth spiralled through Draco from each and every one. 

“You okay?” Harry murmured softly after a while, nuzzling Draco’s hair gently. Even as Draco’s eyes fought to slip closed at the tender touch, ingrained anxiety sent a shiver running down his spine. 

What was he supposed to say? Of course he wasn’t okay, he’d just wept like a baby for what felt like hours. But wasn’t he supposed to lie? Pretend that he was fine? That it was nothing? What was Harry going to think when he found out Draco had bawled over a stupid nightmare?! Seconds stretched into moments, silence weighing on him heavily as he desperately tried to figure out what to say. As the pressure to answer got the better of him, he desperately hoped that honesty really was the best policy, sucking in a deep breath despite the soreness in his throat. 

“I had a nightmare,” he croaked. “You left me.” 

Harry’s heartbeat increased ever so slightly under Draco’s cheek, making him pause. A sudden, horrifying notion of the nightmare actually being true gripped him for a second, threatening to send him spiralling into fresh panic. Fuck, what would he do? How could he ever deal with the fact that the one and only time he cried, properly cried in front of someone, it was in front of the man who was about to leave him?! He’d be ruined. Ridiculed. He’d have to move, have to leave the country and-

“Oh gorgeous,” Harry nuzzled him lovingly, halting the terrifying thoughts. Arms tightened around him, squeezing him gently as his heart continued hammering, not quite convinced that he’d heard his boyfriend right. Still, as Harry just waited, silently encouraging him to say more, his heart rate gradually settled, and he relaxed into his boyfriend’s arms again. He swallowed, taking another deep breath.

“You- you were different,” he started, licking his dry lips as Harry’s fingers began combing through his hair. “You told me that you’d had enough, that you thought I’d changed, but that being with me had proven that I was still-” he stopped, words dying on his tongue as another gut wrenching pang of pain hit him.

“Still what?” Harry prompted quietly. Draco swallowed, drawing in another deep breath. 

“Still the spoiled, spiteful coward I always was,” he admitted, trying to keep his voice level as his nails dug into his palm. Harry’s heart rate quickened.

“You said that you should have let me burn in the fire,” he gulped an unsteady breath. “You told me that you were leaving me, that you hated me, and that I was just a massive mistake. You- you looked at me like I was a piece of shit on your shoe and just... left,” his voice broke on the last word, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks once again. But he wasn’t ready to burst into tears again. Not yet. Taking a careful, measured inhale, he held his breath as Harry’s arms tightened around him once more. 

“Draco…” Harry started, finding Draco’s hand with his own, gently prising away Draco’s nails from his palms. “You know that’s not true, right?” Draco could only nod, biting down hard on his bottom lip. 

“Draco, gorgeous, look at me,” Harry murmured, nudging him gently away from his chest. An undignified whimper rose in Draco’s throat as he obediently pulled himself upright, cold air rushing to greet him. The Gryffindor quickly summoned his glasses.

“Draco,” Harry reached forward to cup his cheeks tear stained, “I would never leave you. I love you.” 

Bright, emerald eyes stared into his, sincerity and honesty shining ridiculously earnestly through them, begging Draco to believe him. Even as vicious whispers from the nightmare haunted him once more, trying to convince him that this wasn’t true, hope began pooling in his stomach, a pitiful sob bubbling in his throat. Harry merely stroked his cheek gently with his thumb and continued.

“I promise. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me,” Harry thankfully ignored the fact that his boyfriend was falling apart in his hands. “I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. All I know is that it wouldn’t be half as good as it is now.”

A hint of steel glinted in his boyfriend’s eyes, and a fresh lump formed in Draco’s throat. As love, relief, and sheer joy flooded through him, Harry’s eyes still boring into his, Draco’s vision blurred once again, relief fuelling more ridiculous untamable emotions. No matter how hard he bit his lip, softer sobs began shuddering through him, shoulders shaking with each breathy exhale. Fortunately, Harry drew him back in against him, saving him the humiliation of having his boyfriend stare at him as he cried. 

“I love you, Draco Malfoy,” Harry repeated, slowly kissing Draco’s temple, once, twice, three times.

“I—hh! I love you too,” he gasped as words he’d never dared ask before forced their way out of his mouth. “Don’t leave m--hh—me?” Warm arms squeezed him again.

“Never, gorgeous. Never.” 

As Draco cried into his boyfriend’s chest once more, Harry gently repositioned them, easing them both back down onto the mattress where he tucked the quilt around them both, cradled Draco close, kissed, caressed, and squeezed him. 

“You’re mine, Draco Malfoy,” Harry murmured, securing the final corner of quilt around them, “And you always will be.” Draco could only cling to his boyfriend.

Slowly, with the familiar rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat, and the comforting smell of his boyfriend around him, Draco’s sobs soon died down to sniffles and the occasional hiccup once more. Just as before, Harry let quiet rest between them as he gently traced patterns on Draco’s back, the last bits of adrenaline and relief ebbing away beneath his fingers. As the sounds of the dawn chorus grew in the room, Draco’s eyes slipped further and further closed, exhaustion and comfort creeping through him. 

“You feeling better now, gorgeous?” Harry’s light, gentle voice broke the quiet after a while. Draco’s heart fluttered slightly at the sound.

“Yeah,” he whispered into the man’s chest, hand still curled into Harry’s chest hair lightly.

“Good.” He was rewarded with another soft kiss to his temple. A soft smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. Silence lapsed between them again as Harry continued running his fingers up and down Draco’s back.

“Thank you,” Draco murmured suddenly, the words barely a thought before they leapt from his mouth. He could practically hear the Gryffindor frown.

“For what?”

“This,” he shrugged slightly, not sure he wanted to explain himself fully yet. Harry could have some strong opinions on his family and it had been a long night already. He didn’t really fancy making it longer. Thankfully, his boyfriend seemed to understand.

“You’re welcome,” he nuzzled Draco’s hair again, sending a shiver down his spine. Draco pouted slightly as his boyfriend giggled, nuzzling even closer.

“Want to try and go back to sleep?” a hint of laughter still clung to his boyfriend’s words, but honestly, as a jaw cracking yawn gripped him, Draco really couldn’t find it in him to care. Just knowing that he could fall asleep, safe in the arms of his boyfriend, no matter what was enough for him. 

“Mmhm,” he hummed, eyes already closed. A gentle huff of laughter escaped his boyfriend as warm breath caressed Draco’s cheek. Soft, warm lips brushed his cheek in a tender, light kiss; happiness bloomed in his chest. 

“Mm’love you,” Draco murmured, the darkness of sleep already invading his mind.

“Love you too, gorgeous. Sleep well.”

With the soothing rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat in his ears, and warm arms wrapped securely around him, Draco drifted back to sleep, the faintest of smiles on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Come and find me on Tumblr! @april-thelightfury115


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